SEX AMONG THE STARS
If she's sort of a chronic platonic but hooked on a tonic that fires desires, what is to worry or hurry to bed for fear that my miss in a burst of passion, for better or worse, will in her fashion. risk her sacroiliac and jump in the sack the minute I say in my indirect way, "Let's go to bed."
And she replies with a snicker and sighs and smiles, "Wait while I take all the pills for my ills. Then if you still want the prize between my fat thighs, put up or shut up with all those kitchykoos. So come on, get it on or it soon will be gone. But don't do it fast. Make it last a minute or two, then I must go to my maker. you faker, so shake it, I'll take it. Then I'll head for my place in the sky and lay on a cloud and shout out loud, 'Hey angel boy, let's wiggle and jiggle and have us a spasm. Let's fly to the moon and dance on the stars and take a slow boat to Venus or Mars. Pluck my harp and I'll pluck you. What more can we do at a hundred and two'?"